


i love you 31000

by doyuroki



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Inktober 2019, M/M, inktober but for writing!, only made it through 4 days lets go baby, tags for each prompt in chapter notes, yes ryan i stole your tags and what about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-11-24 00:41:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20898812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doyuroki/pseuds/doyuroki
Summary: 31 days with reddie but i only do it on days i'm emotionally stable





	1. freeze

**Author's Note:**

> inktober prompts but as reddie drabbles/oneshots!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> starting with day 4. i'm successful
> 
> tags: eddie makes richie a flower crown, idk mayb richie kisses him, richie loves his friends, mike has a crush on stan pass it on

Hanging at the quarry seemed like second nature to Richie Tozier. 

He’d watch in amusement everytime Bev jumped in first, Bill and Ben pushing their way to the edge until whichever one of them made it first landed ungracefully on their stomachs, pretty laughs bubbling out of Bev’s mouth. Mike would go next, cheerful and always dropping in like he was light as a feather; always carefree. Stan would watch them all, unamused every time, before giving Richie a blank stare and jumping in as nonchalantly as you could from a 40 feet drop. 

And everytime, Eddie would look to Richie with concern, and Richie would give him a smile before reaching his hand out in the space between them. Eddie would take it, his hands small and warm in Richie’s, and give him something of a grateful smile. Richie would count (only up to two because after three Eddie got too nervous) and they’d jump, hands interlocked until the water inevitably pulled them apart. 

They’d splash around and laugh, having way too much fun considering how frequently they choked on the dirty water. 

Bev would float on her back after a while, sunlight shining down on her, her hair alight and freckles darkened. Ben and Bill would watch in amazement, desperately swimming alongside her. Stan would try to drift alone, too, but most days Mike would swim in happy circles around him; Stan would climb on his back and they’d drift peacefully along the quarry together, Stan’s eyes on particularly high branches and pretty birds, Mike’s on the pretty boy holding onto him. 

Eddie would laugh at them all, leaning in close to Richie and whispering how oblivious they were, teasing fire in his eyes. He’d splash Richie with water, then, when he realized that they were too close, and Richie would fumble to wipe his glasses so he could watch Eddie throw his head back, shoulders relaxed and no wrinkles on his forehead- just happy. 

And Richie would laugh in his own head. Yeah, oblivious.

Today was no different. They’d jumped and swam and laughed, until Eddie’s fingers got wrinkly and he got out of the water first; Richie following closely behind. 

They were drying off when it happened.

Beverly, as usual, was laying back with her eyes closed, sunglasses slipping off her nose every so often. Bill and Ben were sitting nearby, taking turns picking songs to play on the speaker Ben had asked for for Christmas. 

Stan was already fully clothed, standing somewhere on a distant patch of grass, his neck craned upwards, heavy binoculars resting on his collarbones. Mike was there, too- napping, Richie thinks, or maybe just watching Stan. Oblivious.

Eddie was sitting cross-legged in the grass. He’d found a patch of daisies and giddily settled down there, observing the flowers and picking them out occasionally. Richie made his way over, plopping down in front of Eddie, careful not to crush any of the flowers he seemed to be so fond of. Eddie looked up at him and smiled, radiant. His fingers worked at once, delicately weaving the stems of the daisies together to form some kind of rope? Mega daisy stick? 

Richie asked him as much and Eddie didn’t look up, mumbling something like “you’ll see”.

So, Richie watched- watched as Eddie’s small fingers poked and prodded at the flowers until all of their stems were interlaced, forming an ‘o’ shape. Eddie fiddled with it until he deemed it secure, wrapping a few smaller daisies and buds where it seemed bare. He smiled, then. Finally looking up from his work, Eddie’s eyes met Richie’s at once and fuck, he looked so happy. 

“It’s a crown. for you,” Eddie exclaimed, excitement spilling over his lips as Richie’s heart seized.

His cheeks burned as he watched Eddie, and he quickly ducked his head.

Eddie took this as an invitation, because soon enough two wobbly knees knocked against Richie’s own and he felt a small weight settle atop his head. He looked up hesitantly, careful not to knock off the crown. Eddie fiddled with it and his hair until he was satisfied, sure it wouldn’t slip off Richie’s big head. 

Richie observed Eddie as he pulled a few unruly curls down to frame his face, then brought his hands to cup Richie’s cheeks, turning his head to see his creation from every angle. When Richie was brought back to once again face Eddie, the boy was beaming, cheeks bunched up and prettily dusted pink. His freckles looked like tiny stars then, mapping out Eddie’s cheeks and nose, down to his neck and up his forehead. His eyes were sparkling, maybe, and Richie brought his gaze down to Eddie’s lips, heartbeat quickening as they glimmered. Oblivious.

Then, Richie did something stupid. 

Richie Trashmouth Tozier, with a crown of daisies weaved neatly into his hair, kissed Eddie Kaspbrak. 

He realized much, much too quickly that Eddie wasn’t kissing back.

The logical part of his brain knew- he knew his friends were there, that they could turn and see them at any second. He knew something could happen, like Eddie pushing him away, maybe even spitting on him or kicking him- but selfishly, he wanted to keep kissing him.

He didn’t. 

Richie Tozier pulled away, and opened his eyes to an Eddie Kaspbrak he didn’t know.

There was no warmth or emotion on his face, and his eyes looked empty. He just seemed… frozen.

Richie bit his lip, tears welling up in his eyes as he took in the sight of Eddie in front of him- probably the last time he would ever see him, because Richie had fucked up. He had fucked up and now he’d gone and ruined the best friendship he ever had. 

Richie stood quickly, (faster than he’d ever done anything in his life, probably), and debated going over to say bye to the rest of the Losers. He assumed this was the last time he’d see them, too. After all, it was fair game. Eddie got to keep them, because Richie had gone and fucking kissed him like an idiot, and Richie was left with Maggie and Went Tozier, who he probably wouldn’t see more than twice a week. He tried to will away another batch of tears and failed, letting them run freely down his face.

He was about to pull the crown off his head when something stopped him. 

Richie looked down at his arm; a small, freckled hand wrapped around it. He begged his heart not to leap at the sight but it did anyway. Oblivious.

He looked up, gaze meeting Eddie’s, and one of his tears dropped onto Eddie’s hand. This seemed to snap Eddie out of it because he pulled his hand away, quickly retracting his arms to his sides. 

Richie tried to pretend that didn’t hurt.

When Eddie didn’t seem to be saying anything anytime soon he turned again, once again pulled back by Eddie’s grasp.

“Listen, Eddie, I don’t have time for this. I’m sorry I kissed you and ruined our friendship but I really need to go right now, I-” Richie was rambling. 

Big, devastating tears cascaded down his cheeks and Eddie’s eyes finally flickered with emotion. 

Eddie moved. stepped forward. Then, effectively breaking off Richie’s rambling, he stood on his tippy toes and pressed a gentle kiss to Richie’s cheek. 

Eddie willed his face not to go bright red (to no avail) and watched as Richie’s grew dark, too. That made him smile a bit.

“Eddie, I don’t under-”

“For once in your life, Rich, shut up.”

Richie looked offended for a second, mouth parting in surprise. Eddie took the opportunity to stand on his tippy toes again and kiss him, this time on the lips.

His hands came up to cup Richie’s cheeks and soon enough he felt arms wrapping around his waist and holy fuck, Richie was kissing him back. He was kissing Richie Trashmouth Tozier and Richie Trashmouth Tozier was kissing him back.

They stood like that for a minute, kissing, until Eddie’s feet couldn’t stand it and he dropped himself back to his height, face buried somewhere in Richie’s collarbones. 

“So.. does this mean I didn’t ruin our friendship?”

Eddie rolled his eyes.

“No, you totally did.”

Richie’s face fell, and Eddie couldn’t stand it one bit.

“Because now, we... we, uh. We’re more than friends?” Eddie trailed off at the end, questioning. 

Richie smiled, big and goofy with his wonky front teeth on display.

“Holy cow, Eddie Spaghetti. Are you asking me to be your man?”

Eddie groaned. “I can’t believe I got myself into this.”

“I’m glad you did.. boyfriend.”

Eddie snorted, cheeks burning impossibly at the mention of one fucking word. God, he was weak.

He smacked Richie’s chest.

“I can’t believe you were going to take off like that! And rip off my flower crown, too. I worked so hard on that!”

If Richie was smiling before, he was beaming now.

“What?! You’re the one that just stood there like a fish after I kissed you! What was I supposed to do, kiss you again and watch you pass out?”

Eddie grumbled, arms crossed and cheeks still adorably pink.

“Shut up. You just surprised me, that’s all.” Eddie paused, almost whispering, “I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

“Y-Yeah, me neither,” Richie’s voice was uncharacteristically quiet.

“Guess we’re each other’s firsts then,” Eddie punched Richie’s arm weakly.

Richie smiled again, god he didn’t think he’d ever stop smiling. 

“Guess so, Eds.”

Hanging at the quarry seemed like second nature to Richie Tozier.

They spent their day in the sun, playing outside like kids should (“It’s fucking summer,” Stan’s voice echoed in his head), rushing back home for dinner before sunset.

Bev always led the way when they walked home. She’d have Bill or Ben under her arm (sometimes both), and they’d talk and giggle and march like soldiers. Then they’d turn the street corner, disappearing against a sky of red and orange and purple.

Stan and Mike would linger somewhere off to the side. Mike would always be riding his bike, Stan peacefully walking alongside him. Everyone knew they lived on opposite sides of town, but that never stopped them from walking home together anyway. They’d converse quietly, Stan’s books in the basket of Mike’s bike and Stan’s hand more often times than not sitting on the handle next to Mike’s. 

Richie and Eddie moved around, circling their friends and joining in on conversations when they weren’t wanted. They’d argue and trip each other down the road, but always caught each other before an actual fall. They’d share ice cream and whispers and giggles, all sweet just the same. 

And when they reached Sonia Kaspbrak’s first, if anyone saw Richie and Eddie in the back holding hands- well, they wouldn’t tell. Because it really wasn’t all that different. 

Walking up the steps to his own front porch, Richie’s fingers grazed over his lips. They were warm, still, and a little sticky. 

Eddie had kissed him. 

Richie had walked him to his door earlier, and Eddie had peeked in his living room window before quickly turning back to Richie, a blush on his cheeks. He had stood on his tippy toes to kiss him, placing a warm hand on Richie’s cheek. He tasted like strawberry ice cream and chapstick.

When they pulled apart, Richie felt like he was floating. He smiled as Eddie avoided his gaze and coughed. 

“I’ll, uh. See you tomorrow, Rich.”

Richie leaned down to press a kiss on Eddie’s head, then his nose.

“See you tomorrow, Spaghetti.”

Eddie had looked adorable, then- wide-eyed and confused and incredibly flustered; Richie had to force himself not to kiss him again. Instead, he had squeezed his boyfriend’s hand and run off before Sonia Kaspbrak found him on her property and insisted Eddie be quarantined.

Richie locked the front door behind him as he stepped inside his home. The lights were on, which meant Maggie was home. He toed off his shoes haphazardly, heading to the stairs when he caught sight of his reflection in the hallway mirror. 

He backed up almost in slow motion, then practically watched a smile grow on his face. 

Still sitting atop his head, albeit less neat and a lot more crooked, was a crown of braided daisies. There were flower petals scattered across his hair, and a few leaves had definitely made his way down his shirt, but the crown was still there, pretty and perfect and his. 

Richie picked a fallen daisy from one of his curls and smiled softly.

Falling in love with Eddie Kaspbrak seemed like second nature to Richie Tozier.


	2. build

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tags: eddie works at build a bear, stan also works there, richie is sensitive, georgie doesn't like gender roles and loves carebears & my little pony

“Hi. Welcome to Build-A-Bear, where best friends are made,” Eddie droned on his welcome speech monotonously, which he’d memorized the minute his manager had given him a copy of the employee script.

The little girl who’d just walked in the store smiled brightly at him, her blond pigtails bouncing as she ran up to the array of bears and stuffed toys they had on display. Eddie’s fake customer service smile softened into something more genuine as she poked and prodded at different toys, surely looking for one that was perfect. 

He turned back to the screen before him as he finished his work at the register. Stan had made him switch with him, which meant Eddie had to work the stuffing station. 

In theory, there was nothing wrong with the stuffing station. The kids were always most excited to do the ceremony there and at least he got to sit down, but that fucking machine was a death trap. 

He poured more stuffing through the trapdoor of the machine and sighed. 

If Sonia Kaspbrak could see him now (she would most definitely storm inside and demand he quit).

—

“I’m gonna fucking kill you, Bill.”

Bill laughed, letting go of Georgie’s hand and ruffling his hair when the younger boy pouted.

“H-here, Georgie. Hold Richie’s h-hand.”

Richie tried to keep the frown on his face as Georgie’s small hand slipped into his.

“I won’t be long, p-promise. Y-y-you can make one with Georgie, t-too. It’ll be f-f-fun. Right, Georgie?”

Georgie looked up at Richie and nodded excitedly, and Richie just gave up trying to look mad. He pinched Georgie’s cheek with his free hand. 

“Alright. Let’s get this fucking over with.”

“L-l-language,” Bill muttered as he walked in ahead of them. 

Richie tore his gaze from Bill’s back and looked up to the large, obnoxious, blinking sign above him. 

Build-A-Bear Workshop. 

Richie resisted the urge to pull out a cigarette and took a step forward, Georgie running alongside him excitedly.

“Hi, welcome to Build-A-Bear Workshop! Where best friends are made,” an overly enthusiastic voice chirped as soon as they stepped in. 

Richie debated turning around then and there, but Georgie immediately gasped at the displays and pulled Richie towards them. He dug his hand in the bins, pulling out various teddy bears and toys (all unstuffed, which Richie thought was kinda fucking creepy) and giggling. 

Georgie had untangled their hands to dig more intensely, which left Richie with nothing to do with his hands (or himself, really).

Richie stuck his hands in his pockets and looked to the register, where Bill was talking to a boy with curly hair. The boy was laughing, cheeks rosy and tucking a stray curl behind his ear. Richie watched Bill’s eyes follow the movement and grinned, remembering to tease him about it later. 

Georgie pulled him out of his blackmailing daydream with a few rapid punches to his arm. Richie turned to him curiously, where Georgie was holding up two different stuffed toys. 

He had a yellow Carebear in his left hand, and a pink My Little Pony in the other. Richie debated making a run for it then and there.

“Which one?” Georgie asked seriously.

Richie thought about it for all of three seconds.

“I don’t know georgie, they look the same to me.”

Georgie rolled his eyes, and before Richie could stop him, he called out to an employee.

“Excuse me! We need help over here!”

Richie was going to cry. He was going to break down in a Build-A-Bear Workshop and cry surrounded by Carebears and the boy Bill apparently had a crush on.

“What can I help you with, sweetie?” an employee rushed to Georgie’s side.  
He was short, shorter than Richie anyway, with big eyes and curly hair. It wasn’t as light as the boy Bill was talking to, and it was definitely a little longer. 

Richie gave himself a moment to look him over. 

He had freckles, a lot of them, and a tan (Richie looked down at his own pale arms and cringed). 

He was wearing a Build-A-Bear Workshop shirt tucked into kaki shorts, and holy shit, was that a fanny pack? 

Richie’s eyes travelled back up until they reached his shirt again. There, pinned over his heart was a nametag with very neat handwriting which simply read: Eddie.

Richie willed himself to look away as Georgie very pointedly shoved the two toys in the employee (Eddie’s) face.

“I can’t pick one, and Richie’s no help. He says they’re the same,” Georgie whined.

Snitch, Richie bitterly thought.

The boy, Eddie, turned to Richie to give him a sour look before turning back to Georgie.

Oh great, the cute guy already hates me. Makes sense. Thanks, Georgie.

“Well, I don’t know about Richie here,” the boy started and Richie had never heard his name said more passive aggressively (he kinda liked it), “but they look very different to me.”

Georgie’s face split into a grin. 

“Right?!!”

Eddie led them to the stuffing station and sat down, Georgie immediately following and Richie trailing behind them.

“Now... Picking between a Carebear and My Little Pony is a very tedious task, but I think we can make it.”

Georgie nodded seriously at Eddie’s words. Richie held in a snort, and almost choked on it when Eddie crossed his legs, his shorts riding up his thigh. 

Eddie gave him a curious look and God, Richie needed a smoke so bad.

“Now,” Eddie paused, facing Georgie, waiting for him to give his name. Georgie did and Eddie nodded before continuing. “Georgie. Which one do you like best?”

Georgie shrugged defeatedly.

“Well, Carebears are better companions. They’re very good listeners and they care about you very much,” Eddie started. “They’re also good to cuddle.” 

Richie found himself following Eddie’s lips as he spoke. They were good lips.

“My Little Pony make very good friends. Best friends, even. They’re good to go on adventures with and play.”

Georgie seemed to ponder this information for a minute, his eyes darting between the two. Then, he finally seemed to make a decision.

“I don’t need another friend. I already have three, and my brother Bill’s the best!”

Eddie laughed, and Richie very suddenly became interested in the way his hair moved back with him and exposed his neck. It was a good neck.

“Perfect, then. Bill’s a lucky guy.”

Georgie nodded excitedly again, giggles slipping past his lips.

Eddie turned to Richie, easy smile on his lips.

“Um.. Richie, was it? Would you be a dear and bring the pony back while I get Georgie here started on his bear?”

Richie’s mouth felt too dry to respond. He nodded quickly and grabbed the pony, very speedily walking back to the display walls and teddy bear bins. 

He caught his breath there and placed a hand on his chest, his heart pounding rapidly from Eddie just talking to him. He gave the pony a dirty look before dropping it back into the bin, looking around the store again.

Bill was now holding a light brown bear, which Richie guessed he made while he and Richie were looking through the bins. The boy from the register was neatly wrapping a blue ribbon around its neck, his hands brushing over Bill’s as he finished tying the perfect bow. Richie could see Bill’s blush from here, and he stopped himself from laughing at him only because he almost went into cardiac arrest when Eddie did so much as look at him.

His gaze wandered to Eddie again, where he was stuffing the Carebear and asking Georgie to feel it once in a while. Georgie was giddily bouncing on the balls of his feet, and Richie smiled.

He gathered himself and walked to the station once again, where Georgie was currently holding a satin heart. 

“Do you want one too, Richie?”

Richie gaped at Georgie.

“He can do it too, right? The ceremony?” Georgie asked Eddie and Richie furrowed his eyebrows. 

The ceremony?

Eddie looked around before grabbing another satin heart from the boxes behind him and gently placing it in Richie’s palm.

“We don’t usually put two in one bear but I’ll make an exception for you because you’re extra special!” 

Georgie giggled at Eddie’s words and Richie’s cheeks flushed. 

“Just follow along with what I’m doing, okay?”

Georgie nodded before elbowing Richie, who quickly nodded, too.

Eddie lined up his palms and started rubbing them together, giving Georgie and Richie a look to do the same. They did.

“Okay. We’re going to start by warming up the hearts now, then shake them up to wake them up!”

Eddie started shaking his heart and Richie supposed he and Georgie should do the same. They did. 

“Now we’re going to rub it on your nose so your bear knows you!” 

They did.

“And rub it on your back so your bear has your back!”

They did.

“Then we’re gonna rub it on your knees so they always kneed you! And lastly on your toes so they’re toe-tally awesome!”

Richie snorted at that one, and Eddie gave him a look. He quickly shuffled the heart on the toes of his scuffed shoes.

Eddie smiled again.

“Now close your eyes and make a wish.”

Georgie closed his eyes immediately and clasped the heart to his chest. Richie looked down at his heart then back up to Eddie, who was giving him a look like he was waiting. Richie lined up the satin heart with his own and locked eyes with Eddie again, smirking at him before closing his eyes and making his wish.

When he opened his eyes Eddie’s cheeks were dark and he quickly released his lower lip from where he was biting down on it. He cleared his throat before continuing.

“When you’re done just give your hearts a kiss and I’ll put them inside the bear for you.”

Georgie gave his heart a big, loud smooch before handing it to Eddie, who delicately placed it inside the Carebear.

Eddie was looking at him again. Richie brought the heart to his lips and gave it a slow, teasing kiss, his eyes never leaving Eddie’s. 

Eddie flushed again as he grabbed the heart from Richie’s hand, Richie giddy he finally wasn’t the flustered one. 

Eddie finished placing both hearts inside the Carebear and stitching it up delicately, handing it to Georgie who immediately gave it a big hug. Georgie ran off to show Bill, leaving Richie at the stuffing station alone with Eddie. 

“So… Are you, like, really into Carebears and My Little Pony?” 

Eddie gave him a look that spelled murder before turning away to clean up the station. 

He leaned down to pick up some stuffing, Richie’s eyes following the movement; looking over his legs (and maybe his ass). They were good legs (and God, was it a good ass).

“No, asshole. Just know what the kids like,” Eddie stood back up, facing Richie. “And unlike you, I actually make an effort to make them happy.” 

Richie thought back to Georgie asking him to choose between the bears and Richie blowing him off, and he maybe felt a little guilty. He quickly brushed it off and gave Eddie a smirk.

“Oh, I’m not so great with kids,” Richie lied, “I’m much better at making grown-ups happy. How old are you?”

“Eighteen,” Eddie answered warily.

“Mm. I have a few things I can show you that are known to make people very happy.” 

Eddie’s entire body seemed to flush, and Richie delighted in the sight. 

The smaller boy glared at him, mouth falling open and closed as he figured out something to say. Richie watched until he gave up and called for a girl behind the counter, the two swiftly switching posts and Eddie shooting Richie daggers from the register. 

Richie laughed, sending him a wink before walking over to where Georgie was looking at accessories for his bear. Richie stayed with him, trying his best to be helpful whenever Georgie faced a new dilemma. 

They made their way across the aisles fairly quickly before Georgie led them to a machine by the cashier, which was supposed to register the bear’s name. The younger boy made the terrible decision to let Richie name his bear, which resulted in multiple machinery errors as the system filtered out the inappropriate ones (all of them). 

It was a few minutes before Richie finally accepted he wouldn’t get one past the system, and he went for a more tame option. He typed in the name and smiled at his work, finishing up the paperwork for the bear’s fucking birth certificate? God, this place was weird.

Richie led Georgie to the register, where they were supposed to pay and collect the birth certificate. 

Eddie was standing behind the counter, smiling intently as he listened to Georgie’s adventures picking different outfits and toys for his bear as he rung him up. He finished stuffing the bear inside its box before disappearing to the printer to collect the birth certificate. He read over it with rosy cheeks, his lips quivering and Richie couldn’t tell if he was about to smile or frown.

“Eddie Spaghetti?” he squeaked.

“Yeah! Richie picked it! Right, Rich?” 

Richie’s cheeks quickly matched Eddie’s as the boy locked eyes with him, a playful smile toying on his lips. 

“A cute bear needs a cute name,” Richie mumbled.

He cleared his throat after Eddie gave him his total and he payed for Georgie’s things (Why was this shit so expensive? Bill fucking owed him).

Eddie gave Georgie one last smile before handing him his box, laughing airily as Georgie thanked him again and again before disappearing once more to find Bill. Richie really thought he should go after him, he was babysitting after all, but he couldn’t pull himself away from the register.

Eddie looked at him curiously as he handed Richie his receipt, probably wondering why he wasn’t going after Georgie either.

“Anything else?” he asked, his voice squeaky again. 

Richie panicked.

“Y-yeah, um. Do you- you have a.. The..” His eyes landed on a poster above Eddie’s head, “I want to join the bonus club.” 

Eddie blinked back his surprise, and maybe a laugh, as he nodded and pulled out a card from somewhere on the counter. He walked Richie through the steps of activating his account online, reiterating the benefits of joining and ringing him up once again. 

Richie was putting away his credit card and trying not to think about the money he’d spent when Eddie handed him his membership card. He’d neatly tucked it into an envelope, and Richie thanked him again before heading to the door. 

He absentmindedly opened the envelope, glaring daggers at the stupid card he’d probably never use again. Then, a piece of paper neatly tucked behind the card stuck outside the envelope. Richie distractedly pulled it out, unfolding it. 

There, in the same neat handwriting as the one on Eddie’s nametag simply read: 202-555-0147. Text me, loser.

Richie almost tripped on his own two feet, looking back to the register where Eddie was watching him, biting his lip. He gave Richie a dazzling smile and this time Richie actually fell, face burning as Eddie laughed at him. He quickly pulled himself off the floor and sent Eddie an exaggerated wink, running out of the store and into the mall to find Georgie. 

He found him almost immediately, in the kids playground with Bill on his side and Eddie Spaghetti on his lap. Richie wanted to cry, of relief or affection he didn’t know, but he felt like he should. 

He joined them quickly, taking up the seat on Georgie’s other side and awaiting a lecture from Bill. When one didn’t come he glanced curiously at the boy, and almost laughed. 

He had his own bear in his lap, the same brown one as before, and a dopey smile on his face. Richie correlated it to the boy from the store, his suspicions confirmed when he noticed a silver charm wrapped around the ribbon which read Stanley.  
__

Later, when Bill asked him how much he owed him for Georgie’s bear, Richie smiled.

“I got this one, Big Bill.”

Bill had looked at him weirdly but shrugged, closing his wallet which Richie noted also had a brand new, bright yellow card tucked into it. 

Richie had laughed then, almost to the point of tears, and asked Bill if he wanted to go back to Build-A-Bear tomorrow.


	3. enchanted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tags: modern setting, bev does richie's makeup, spoiler alert eddie likes it, yes richie is bi and yes he has a platonic crush on bev (sue me), bill also has a crush on eddie but he has a little crush on all the losers :)

Richie Tozier, for once in his life, is sitting still. 

He’s on Beverly Marsh’s bed, legs crossed (criss cross applesauce) and nervous hands fiddling on his lap. Beverly is watching him, amused, but shoots him a grateful smile as she sits down facing him.

“Thanks for doing this for me, Rich.”

“Y-yeah. No problem Bev,” Richie spills out, cheeks only a little flushed.

_ On the way to their shared Social Studies class, Bev always linked arms with Richie. And that’s how they were walking on Tuesday; arms linked, Richie’s long legs much too fast for Beverly to keep up and both of them in fits of giggles when he sped up on purpose or badly imitated their teacher. After a particular loud snort from Bev, Greta Bowie had stormed past them, knocking her shoulder violently with Beverly’s. _

_ “Oh, sorry. Didn’t see you there, Beaverly,” she hissed so menacingly that Richie desperately wanted to tell her what a terrible nickname that was. Especially for tormenting purposes. Richie thought “Beaverly” was kinda cute.  _

_ “That’s no problem, Greta. All that extra mass must take it hard not to run into people in the hallways.”  _

_ Richie had howled then, throwing his head back and not caring less who saw. Beverly’s arm tightened around his and he stopped, pulling her closer to him. She was scared. _

_ Greta bared her teeth, which quite frankly were much bigger than Beverly’s, before she cackled. _

_ “Sure. It’s just that I usually expect men to make way for me. You look an awful lot like Tozier lately, Beaverly. Maybe you should take some pointers. You know, really nail the look.”  _

_ Beverly had stormed away then, locking herself in the girls’ bathroom until she had to show her face in Social Studies. She didn’t talk the whole class, or laugh at any of Richie’s jokes. _

_ During lunch, when she and Richie were alone, she leaned in close to him and whispered. _

_ “Do you think you could do me a favor?” _

_ “Sure,” Richie had agreed before she even finished her sentence. _

_ “Could I practice some makeup on you?” _

Beverly takes another look at him before retrieving a small bag from her nightstand, opening it and lining up its contents on her purple comforter. They seem to be brushes and sticks and pens, and a few of them are just circles, which Richie really doesn't get. He’s seen most of them before, in their downstairs bathroom after Maggie Tozier got ready for date night, and he knows the black stick is mascara and whatever circle is pink must be blush. 

Beverly looks at them a little confused too before she picks up a tan tube and seems to gain some confidence. She squints at Richie, who smiles, before squeezing something out of the tube and applying it to his face.

It’s cold, and he hisses but lets her hands work the product on his face. She picks up a brush, inspects it, then starts spreading more of the stuff on his face.

She’s leaning in close to his nose when she says, “You have so many freckles.”

Richie really doesn’t know what to say to that so he wills away a blush (which thankfully remains buried under what he later learns is  _ foundation _ ) and replies quietly.

“So do you.” 

This seems to be the right answer because she grins before wiping some product off his face, picking up different tools this time and starting again. 

It takes her some time (the longest time Richie has ever  _ not _ done anything) before she seems to be finished. She has just wiped something on his cheekbones when she pulls back and looks at him critically. She seems to be satisfied because she smiles and runs to her dresser, pulling out her polaroid camera. 

Richie tries to escape the camera but Beverly gives him a dirty look. He sighs and sits back on her bed, accepting his fate and posing dramatically for Bev. She snorts as she takes his picture, and once it’s finished developing she hastily writes across the polaroid:  _ Richie’s makeup. First try. 10/07/17. _

_ __ _

It’s a Friday, and they all have plans to meet up at Bev’s. Her aunt is out of town and they figure her empty house is better than them all squeezing into Richie’s tiny bedroom; or worse, Bill’s.

Richie is trying his best to get through his last hour of Algebra when his phone lights up with a notification. He grabs at it quickly, so his teacher doesn’t see, and breathes a sigh of relief when he realizes she’s trying to get Belch to solve an equation (which would easily take up half their class period). 

He chuckles at himself and unlocks his phone, where he has one unopened message.

From: eddie spaghetti <3

_ wanna go to bev’s together? _

Richie smiles, Belch and Algebra and everything forgotten as he hastily types out a reply to Eddie.

To: eddie spaghetti <3

_ only if i can drive you, eds ;) _

From: eddie spaghetti <3

_ that machine is a DEATH TRAP!!!! _

To: eddie spaghetti <3

_ hey! don’t talk about bertha that way >:( _

_ you know we’re almost as happy as me and sonia _

From: eddie spaghetti <3

_ whatever  _

_ you don’t even have your license i don’t see why you want to drive me places so bad _

To: eddie spaghetti <3

_ as your hot, cool, older bf it’s my job to drive you places _

From: eddie spaghetti <3

_ HA _

_ you wish, Tozier. _

Richie frowns at his phone. 

_ Yeah, I do. _

He shakes off the thought and types a reply before tucking his phone into his pocket.

To: eddie spaghetti <3

_ i’ll be waiting outside your class, my love ;)))) _

It’s another long thirty minutes until Algebra ends, most of it spent doodling in the margins of his notebook and thinking about walking home with Eddie. When the bell rings, Richie’s the first one out, beelining to where he knows Eddie has English.

Eddie is the last one out, as usual, probably organizing his pens and notebooks by size and color before he even puts them away. This makes Richie smile, and he’s still smiling when Eddie comes out of his classroom, easily walking ahead of Richie, expecting him to fall into step with him. He does. 

Richie wraps an arm around his shoulder, and Eddie looks up to glare at him but doesn’t shove him off anyway. 

They’re a few minutes away from school when Eddie speaks, most of their walk so far consisting of Richie’s rambling or a comfortable silence.

“So, what are we even doing tonight?”

Richie pushes his glasses further up his nose.

“I don’t know. Movies? Games, probably.”

“I call dibs on the car,” Eddie says quickly.

“I know you do, Eds,” Richie replies easily, smile playing on his lips.

Eddie always,  _ always _ , picked the car when they played Monopoly. One time when they were kids Stan picked it first, and Eddie had cried for fifteen minutes before Stan had reluctantly switched with him. Richie had never been more afraid of Stanley Uris.

The rest of the walk is spent in more silence, and the occasional argument over nothing. Richie likes it that way.

When they make it to Eddie’s porch, Richie finally pulls himself away from Eddie, like a sad magnet. Eddie smiles at him as he fiddles with his key.

“So, you’ll pick me up after dinner?”

There’s no way Sonia Kaspbrak would let her son leave the house before dinner, and Eddie always ate as little as possible with his mom so he could order in pizza with the losers. 

Richie smiles, he seems to do that a lot around Eddie.

“Your chariot will await at precisely six-thirty, good sir. As will your knight in shining armor,” Richie says in his best (worst) British accent. 

Eddie rolls his eyes but smiles at him anyway, before disappearing into his house. 

__

Richie is looking through his collection of hawaiian shirts when his phone rings with a new message. He checks it distractedly.

From: bevvy wevvy

_ can you come here early? _

To: bevvy wevvy

_ i told eddie i’d drive him _

From: bevvy wevvy

_ pleaseeeeee _

_ i wanna practice today _

_ it won't take long. swear _

Richie supposes he can always pick Eddie up once she’s done. 

He fixes his hair half heartedly and pulls on a random sweater (this one is navy blue with little pugs on it) and grabs his overnight bag and keys. The drive to Bev’s is short, and he’s in her room, sitting on her bed with his legs crossed, in under ten minutes. 

Beverly is humming, as she usually does when she’s playing one of her favorite records, and Richie joins in sometimes (although his humming is a lot more croaky and off-tune). 

Something about Bev doing his makeup became soothing for him, and somewhere along the way he’d started drifting off, or leaning into the touch of her softer brushes. Which is how he finds himself now, head falling back every so often, Beverly straightening it impatiently when he wanders too far back. 

He lets himself enjoy the brush on his eyelids, his cheeks, the occasional sensation of Bev’s fingers over his chin or his lips. It’s nice, Richie thinks, and he lets himself fall into the sensation, peacefully dozing off as Beverly adds the same final touches she always does to his makeup. 

She smiles when she pulls away, and Richie’s head is leaning on her wall, his mouth slightly parted in a small “o” shape and his glittery eyelids shut. Beverly pulls out her polaroid and takes her usual photo, this time writing:  _ Richie falls asleep. 10/20/17. _

  
  


Richie hears the soft voice of Clairo filtering around him before anything else. He hums contently and reluctantly opens his eyes. He realizes too soon that he’s not in his room. He frowns and checks his phone.  _ It’s 7:30 _ .

An unsettling feeling washes over him, like he’s forgotten something. He checks his messages, still frowning, and immediately curses.

_ He’s forgotten Eddie. _

Richie gets up at record speed, shooting a text to Eddie and hopping in his beat-up car. The usual 10 minute drive from Beverly’s to Eddie’s becomes 5 minutes, and Richie pulls into the first house on the block, as he always does, walking the rest of the way to Eddie’s (Sonia already hates Eddie going out with Richie, if she saw he would be driving, she’d lock Eddie up in a high tower like a fucking Disney princess or some shit).

Richie doesn’t knock on the door, opting to text Eddie again, as he stands on his front porch. The light from the television comes through the windows a bit, casting fluorescent beams of light all around Richie.

He hears muffled screaming on the other side of the door, and it very abruptly opens, Eddie’s face still turned towards the inside of his house as he screams.

“I’m going out, ma! You can’t keep fucking locking me up! I’ll just see you tomorrow, okay?”

There’s some rustling from inside the house and Eddie slams the door shut, finally turning around to face Richie. 

Eddie’s already pissed Richie’s an hour late, and his mom begging him not to leave her tonight had just added to his frustrations. He’s fully ready to start going off on Richie when he finally looks up at him. 

There are blue and purple lights catching off of Richie’s face, making him gleam in the darkness and  _ what the fuck, why does the Dr. Phil filtering through his windows make Richie look like a fucking God?  _ Eddie wants to fucking throw up. Richie Tozier is standing on his doorstep, over an hour late, wearing a sweater with  _ fucking pugs _ on it and all Eddie can think about is how pretty he is; his long eyelashes and  _ is that fucking glitter?  _ Maybe he really does have asthma.

Before he can have his first “asthma attack” since age 12, Richie opens his mouth. 

_ God, his lips are pink. _

“Hey, Eds. I’m really, really sorry I’m late. I was doing Bev a favor and I fell asleep, I really didn’t mean to forget about you, you know I never would, right? I drove here as fast as I could and-” Richie cuts himself off, looking like he’s just realized something. 

His hands reach for his face and he rubs them slightly on his cheeks, some glitter staining his fingers. He looks horrified, glancing frantically from his fingers to Eddie, like he’s going to say something.

_ Oh. He should, right? _

But Richie beats him to it. As always.

“Oh God, I didn’t take it off, did I? Fuck. Okay don’t make fun of me, but Bev asked me a few weeks ago if she could practice doing her makeup on me before she did it on herself- you know to get better or some shit- and I thought it would be okay, and kind of fun. Fuck, that’s so stupid. I must look so fucking stupid right now. Hey, listen if I take this off please promise not to tell everyone? I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Eddie tries to get his brain to stop focusing on Richie’s  _ fucking face _ so he can listen to his words instead, and he’s somewhat successful. He barely hears the end of Richie’s statement before he rushes to pull Richie’s hands away from his face. He looked like he was about to wipe it all off. 

“Hey, it’s okay. Slow down, Rich.”

Richie’s hands tighten their hold on Eddie’s, and he looks up at him almost pleadingly.

“It’s not stupid. It’s really sweet, actually. I didn’t know you would do something like that,” Eddie speaks softly, like he would to Georgie, or one of the kids at Derry Elementary. Somehow Richie really reminds him of a kid right now.

“And don’t- You shouldn’t take it off. It looks good on you, you look,” Eddie’s breath hitches. “You look fucking magical, Rich.” 

Richie swears Eddie can see his blush even underneath his makeup. He wants to scream, or cry, or maybe kiss Eddie, but he can’t do any of that so he desperately tries to slow his beating heart instead and smiles. 

“Thanks, Eds.”

They must’ve been standing there looking at each other for a while because suddenly the light from the Kaspbrak’s television which had been shining on Richie’s face goes dim, and Eddie’s eyes widen. He grabs Richie’s hand (which he had reluctantly dropped earlier) and starts running to where he knows he’d parked. 

They bump into each other, stumbling, and Richie almost trips over his own feet once, but they make it to his car. They’re still giggling when Richie starts the car and pulls away, heading to Bev’s again.

__

Eddie is getting snacks (he’d lost at rock paper scissors) when they’re all piling into Bev’s living room. They’re going to watch a scary movie, and standard seating procedures are as follows.

Beverly takes the right side of the couch, where she sits with Bill by her side, the two comfortable leaning on each other’s shoulders but usually not anything more. Ben takes the floor (because he likes having the room) where he’s thrown a Winnie The Pooh blanket, his own little sanctuary at the foot of the couch. Stan takes the loveseat, Mike squeezing beside him giddily and offering him the fluffiest pillows and blankets he brought. 

Richie is at the other end of the couch, making space where Eddie usually sits. He’s picking between the cushions and brushing them off, knowing Eddie sometimes gets anxious about what could be in there. He’s only got one blanket, the same one he always brings that’s way too small for both of them, and they always have to cuddle a little too close to fit underneath it. 

Eddie watches him all too fondly, the low light catching off of the glitter on Richie’s cheekbones (he’d kept the makeup on, and only Stanley had made of him- because he had smudged lip gloss on his teeth). His eyelids are glittering, too. Pink and silver and blue and all of Eddie’s favorite colors. 

Eddie thinks he’d be fine just watching him instead of the movie. Richie is beautiful. Even when he is loud, or late, or snorting with his huge glasses slipping off his nose like he is now, he is beautiful. 

The weight of a hand on his shoulder makes Eddie jump, dropping the (thankfully sealed) bags of microwavable popcorn he’d been clutching onto. He quickly turns around, expecting an intruder or maybe Bev’s aunt early from her trip, but it’s just Bill. He sighs in relief.

Bill smirks at him.

“Watcha lookin’ at, Eddie?” he asks slyly, obviously knowing the answer.

_ He’d gotten so much cheekier after he’d lost his stutter. Eddie hates that damn speech therapy camp.  _

“N-nothing. Just the losers,” Eddie stumbles over his words.

Bill’s smirk somehow gets more suggestive.

“Yeah? Anyone in particular?” 

Eddie quickly turns back to the living room, making sure no one is listening, before dropping the popcorn on the table and shoving Bill into the kitchen.

“Do not fucking tell him, or I swear to God I’ll revive your fucking stutter,” Eddie hisses.

Bill laughs, sweet and airy, and a little tension eases off of Eddie’s shoulders. 

_ He’s fine. He’s okay. This is Bill he’s talking to. Big Bill. _

“I’m not gonna tell him anything,” Bill reassures.

Eddie breathes a sigh of relief. 

“Besides, it’s pretty obvious,” he continues, reminding Eddie never to trust Bill Denbrough ever again.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You’re like, fucking…” Bill pauses, looking for the right word, “Enchanted, dude.”

Eddie makes a face, but feels color rising to his cheeks.

“I’m fucking what?”

“I don’t know,” Bill giggles, “You just look at him like he’s the only person in the room.”

Eddie scoffs. 

“That’s bullshit. You’re just jealous I wasn’t looking at  _ you _ ,” he says smugly.

“Oh, definitely. You know I wouldn’t mind, baby,” Bill winks.

Eddie pretends to gag around a laugh, throwing a wooden spoon at Bill.

“Fuck off! And get out of the kitchen, I’m getting snacks.”

Bill is laughing too, and he walks to the door with his hands up in surrender. He pauses before leaving, and turns to face Eddie one more time.

“He looks at you the same way, you know.”

Then he goes. 

Eddie’s certain his cheeks are darker than Richie’s  _ with _ makeup on. 

He tries to ignore Bill’s words as he aimlessly grabs sodas and pretzels, neatly arranging all the snacks on the living room table when he’s done. 

Eddie’s just finished turning off the remainder of the lights when Richie makes grabby hands at him. He rolls his eyes but drops himself next to him anyway, hiding a smile when Richie immediately brings him closer, tucking them both under his dumb tiny blanket. 

The losers fall asleep throughout the movie. Ben first, then Mike on Stan’s shoulder, and the rest go until it’s just Eddie and Richie. They’re always the last ones to fall asleep: Richie because  _ falling asleep during a movie is an insult to the craft _ , Eddie because he likes talking to Richie.

Richie’s giving commentary, as usual, over the parts he likes and the ones he thinks are dumb, voice soft because everyone else is sleeping. Eddie’s watching  _ him _ , movie long forgotten.

Richie’s glasses are at the tip of his nose, as they usually are when he gets too invested in something and forgets to fix them. The soft glow from the television is illuminating him just slightly, not as much as his had back on Eddie’s porch, but enough that Eddie can see all of Richie’s freckles, could count them if he wanted to. They’re a little covered up, and glowing pink under the blush Bev applied. Eddie thinks about taking his finger and tracing over them. Realizing they’re the only ones awake right now, he does, pushing away any doubts and hoping he can blame it on tiredness if Richie thinks it’s weird.

But he doesn’t. 

Richie stops talking for a second, then looks away from the movie to smile at Eddie.

Eddie’s finger has made his way across all his freckles now, so he travels up Richie’s nose, pushing up his glasses. He gets brave, bringing his entire hand to rest on Richie’s cheek. He cups his face gently, travelling up and tucking a curly strand of hair behind Richie’s ear. 

Eddie looks up, and his eyes meet Richie’s glittery ones.

“Pretty,” he whispers.

Richie’s eyes are shining, emotions flashing in them that Eddie doesn’t recognize and he’s about to pull away. He’s about to scramble off the couch and wake up Bev and apologize and walk home. It’s not that bad of a walk in the dark, he thinks his phone has at least a little charg-

His thoughts are promptly cut off by Richie.

Richie’s lips. On his.

Before Eddie can have any time to get in his own head he closes his eyes, his free hand reaching for the other side Richie’s face, and kissing him back softly. 

It’s nice.

It’s his  _ first kiss _ .

With a boy.

With  _ Richie _ .

Eddie smiles into the kiss, and Richie’s pulled him so close he’s almost on his lap. Richie tastes like bubblegum, and sweets, and everything Eddie hates on a normal basis but he thinks taste nice on Richie’s lips. 

It feels like hours before they pull apart, but Eddie knows it can’t be more than a few minutes. They’re both a little out of breath, and Richie smiles, so radiant Eddie has to smile, too. Richie rests his forehead on Eddie’s and laughs, finding Eddie’s hands and intertwining his fingers with his own.

“I’ve wanted to do that forever,” Richie says breathlessly.

“Me too,” Eddie presses a small kiss to Richie’s cheek.

“I can’t believe we could’ve been doing that before.”

“Oh, no. It was definitely the glitter.”

Richie’s mouth opens in fake shock and he nudges Eddie with their intertwined hands. 

Eddie laughs, and it might be too loud, and it could wake the losers up but he doesn’t care. If any of them wake up and see Eddie on Richie’s lap, their lips pink and swollen, holding hands and laughing like idiots- well, they can deal with it. 

Because Eddie is happy. He’s so fucking happy. 

Richie’s magic, and he’s fucking enchanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so bad at this but. hi thanks for reading!!
> 
> i swear i'll try and make up the ones i missed (and stop writing monster oneshots) !! :D
> 
> let's discuss in the comments which gamepieces the losers would pick in monopoly


	4. overgrown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tags: modern au (reddie r 2000s babies), richie has a pink ds, eddie makes fun of him but he thinks he's cute, if u think richie didn't have all of britney spears' cds ur wrong

Climbing up the stairs of the Tozier house, Eddie can faintly hear Britney Spears’ “Boys” playing where Richie’s door is cracked open. He rolls his eyes,  _ of course Richie would have put on one of his Britney CDs _ , and rushes up the last few steps to Richie’s room. 

He pushes the door open without knocking (it’s a Friday, so Richie knows he’d be here before 5PM) and sets down his overnight bag in the one corner of Richie’s room he keeps tidy (mostly because that’s where Eddie puts his things and Richie doesn’t want to upset him by messing up  _ his _ space).

Richie looks up from where he’s sitting cross-legged on his bed, smiling widely at Eddie.

“Why, it’s Eddie Spaghetti! My favorite boy,” Richie exclaims like he hasn’t seen Eddie in years (he’d seen him an hour ago, they walked home together).

Eddie rolls his eyes, choosing to ignore Richie in favor of plopping himself on the ground to take his shoes off. He does so quickly, neatly aligning them by his bag as Richie happily hums along to Boys. 

Eddie fixes his socks and climbs on Richie’s bed, resting his back against the wall and his legs over Richie’s lap, as he always does. Richie accepts them easily, bringing his hands down to Eddie’s socked feet and squeezing and tickling them playfully. 

“Stop playing with my feet, loser,” Eddie grumbles distractedly.

Richie grabs them again in defiance, giggling as he wiggles Eddie’s toes through his socks, relenting only when Eddie’s feet come close to kicking him in the jaw. 

Richie sighs in defeat, and Eddie can feel him scrambling around the bed before he settles down again, the weight of his arms back on Eddie’s legs but this time he’s not moving.

Eddie smiles contently at Richie’s obedience. He keeps scrolling through his phone, answering Bev’s texts about the homework due on Monday and judging people on Instagram he’s never met before.

Eddie’s laughing at something Stan sent him when Richie stirs. He looks up curiously, about to complain about Richie moving too much, but bursts into laughter at the sight before him. 

Richie is pouting, lower lip sticking out and a pink Nintendo DS in his hands. 

“Richie, what the fuck,” Eddie manages in between giggles. 

_ What the fuck is he doing with a Nintendo DS Lite? It’s 2019, and Eddie knows for a fact Richie got a Switch for Christmas because he’d secretely texted Maggie when she asked him what to get Richie that year. _

“Fucking Toad hit me with a red shell! I trusted him,” Richie whines, eyes wide and glassy under his big dumb glasses.

“Oh my God,” Eddie can barely breathe now, and Richie really looks like he’s about to cry.

“Stop laughing at me, Eds. This is serious,” Richie continues (though he betrays himself by smiling). 

Eddie lets out the last of his giggles before collecting himself.

“I’m sorry, Rich. It’s just,” he smiles, “don’t you think you’ve overgrown the pink DS?”

“Eddie Spaghetti, how could you?” Richie gasps, scandalized. “Don’t listen to him, Edith. He doesn’t mean it,” he stage whispers to his DS.

Eddie rolls his eyes, a dumb smile playing on his lips anyway.

“You’re sixteen, you big baby. Still playing with kids games,” Eddie means to grumble, but his voice comes out fond. 

_ Traitor. _

Richie smirks, pushing Eddie’s feet off his lap and wiggling around the bed until he’s sitting right beside Eddie, their shoulders and knees flush against each other.

“Listen here, Eds. The 2006 DS is the best console Nintendo has released in years and I take no criticism.”

He spends way longer than necessary talking Eddie through the original Mario Kart characters, and why Daisy is the best (all of which Eddie knows, because he’s been best friends with Richie since they were kids. He listens anyway, trying not to focus on Richie’s breath on his neck or how close his face is to Eddie’s).

When Richie’s sure Eddie’s  _ outrageous _ idea he could’ve outgrown his pink DS is no longer an issue, they take turns playing Mario Kart on it. 

Richie picks Daisy every time, and Eddie switches between Yoshi and Peach just to piss him off. Eddie’s still pretty good, and he laughs every time Richie gets hit by a shell or slips on his own banana peel. 

They play Mario Kart until they get bored of it (read: until Richie almost breaks his DS in frustration), switching it out for Nintendogs.

Richie only has one dog, a Charles Spaniel called Helen, and they feed and walk and play with her until all she can do is nap in the corner of Richie’s screen. 

Richie lets Eddie adopt a new dog, a dalmatian he names Blanche (Richie thinks it’s funny to name everything after old ladies, so he lets Eddie name the dog on the condition he doesn’t break the theme). 

They argue over who should be the one to take care of her then agree on shared custody (“ _ You’ll have to come over once a week to visit her, Eds. Or she’ll get lonely _ ”). 

The sun is setting when they finally look away from Richie’s DS, and Maggie calls them downstairs for dinner. 

__

Eddie’s already changed into his pajamas (an oversized T-shirt that lands mid-thigh and boxer shorts) when Richie comes back from the bathroom where he’d gone to change. 

Richie’s eyes trail over him slowly then he smiles fondly, throwing himself into bed and lifting up one side of his blanket for Eddie. Eddie crawls in as usual, Richie immediately pulling him close to his chest. Eddie huffs and pulls away to try and get comfortable, Richie ignoring his protests and bringing his face to Eddie’s, a long arm draped across his waist. 

Eddie surrenders, as usual, and places his legs in between Richie’s. He feels warm.

Richie’s looking at him, eyes sparkling in the dark (glasses abandoned on his nightstand) and pink dusted over his cheeks. 

“You know if we moved right now your ass would fall out of bed,” he whispers into the small space between them. 

Eddie snorts, bringing up a hand to softly smack Richie. He pauses afterwards then keeps his hand there, flattening his palm on Richie’s chest where he can feel his heartbeat. 

“I think we’ve overgrown the bed, too.”

Eddie can feel Richie’s heart beat faster.

“Yeah, Eds, we did. You don’t think we’d ever,” Richie pauses, nervous. Eddie’s free hand reaches for his, easily lacing their fingers together. “Outgrow each other,” he continues quietly.

Eddie’s heartbeat matches Richie’s, and he brings his hand from Richie’s chest to his face. He gently moves a few curls away from Richie’s eyes.

“No, Rich, I don’t. I think you’re stuck with me forever.” 

Richie squeezes his hand.

“Yeah? I think you might be stuck with me forever, too.”

Eddie smiles, big and dumb and goofy the way Richie always does, and reaches up to press a kiss on Richie’s nose.

“Good. Now go to sleep, nerd.”

Richie’s blushing furiously now, and Eddie thinks he could find his way home using the brightness of Richie’s cheeks alone.

“Night, Eds.”

Richie pulls Eddie’s hand from his chest and wraps it around himself, pressing soft kisses to both of Eddie’s cheeks before pulling back and shutting his eyes tightly.

“Goodnight, Richie,” Eddie whispers around a smile. 


End file.
